


bluebirds fly beyond

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Sex Pistols | Love Pistols
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-19
Updated: 2007-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:01:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1640297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Story by Yasmin</p>
            </blockquote>





	bluebirds fly beyond

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Amoeba

 

 

It is a law of fictional probability that the odd couple will somehow work out their differences to ride off into the sunset at the end of the reel. In real life, of course, what usually happens is that the odd couple becomes the bickering couple becomes two people who can't stand the sight of each other -- and they part, and fade into photographs brought out for the grandchildren.

Shiro is still a little afraid of this, sometimes ( _usually_ ), has to breathe deep and remind himself that Yonekuni has chosen this, chosen him. Choices can be undone, he reminds himself, though every morning that he wakes up in Yonekuni's bed sweeps the possibility further away, like a message thrown into the sea.

The probability always exists, however, lurking in the dark corners of Yonekuni's life: that there will be something to unravel everything.

He is -- and isn't -- expecting this, after nearly four years together. The sharpness of the chill seeping into his bones surprises Shiro, but not its cause.

* * * * *

"You," Yonekuni says. "Stop it."

Shiro pauses mid-sip, then gently lowers his coffee mug onto the table. "Stop what, exactly?" he asks, careful to keep his tone mild.

"Being unreasonable!" A thump of Yonekuni's fist nearly sends the butter dish flying. "You know it's not about--"

This time Shiro does let a little irritation creep into his words. "I," he bites out, "never said anything."

"You never do," Yonekuni grumbles. "But I know--"

"Then you have nothing to complain about." Shiro stands, brushing toast crumbs from his clothes. "I have classes -- I'll see you tonight."

"You're such a fucking woman!" Yonekuni shouts after him, not caring in the least about their -- apparently keen-eared and keenly interested -- neighbours. "And worse!"

Neither does Shiro, because he slams the door behind him.

* * * * *

The Madararui counsellor Shiro goes to is a light-seed Bear with sleek brown curls and an open, heart-shaped face. She also has the most sparkling laugh Shiro has ever heard, which makes him glad Yonekuni will never, ever find out about the counselling sessions.

"Most Madararui in your situation adopt a kind of gender role to play, regardless of whether they're men or women," she says, offering him a plate of digestives. "The long-suffering, martyred wife. The stoic but angry husband. The vengeful girlfriend or the angry boyfriend."

"But why?" Shiro frowns. "It's not... a homosexual thing, is it?"

Reiko gives him a _look_ , eyebrows rising, and he thinks back to... almost his entire life, the Fujiwaras and the girls who used to crowd (are still crowding, actually) around Yonekuni -- and Karen-san and Makio-san.

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

"The thing is, Madararui society is obsessed with breeding -- it's not much of an exaggeration to say that we built everything around it, including our identities. Practically the first thing you learn as a kid is about finding your partner."

Shiro sighs and sinks back into Reiko's comfortable sofa. "I know."

"On one hand, you're told you just _know_ who your life partner is when you meet him or her. Which is romantic to a Monkey if he doesn't know that we breed for the best genetic stock. Very formal arrangements."

She makes a tiny moue of disapproval. "Ever read _Pride and Prejudice_? It's a little like that, how we conduct our relationships."

"You're not like many Madararui, Reiko-san," Shiro says, watching the sunlight trickling through the lace curtains of her office.

Reiko smiles then, a flamboyant curve of her generous mouth. "We don't need to ask for permission to be different, Shiro-san, even if we can't always express it. Madararui are people too."

* * * * *

"I know why you're sulking," mutters Yonekuni, sliding under the sheets at Shiro's back.

Shiro swallows a sarcastic "congratulations". He tries not to lean back into the touch of Yonekuni cool hands, rapidly warming against his shoulders and the curve of his spine.

"But I want you to know: it doesn't threaten anything about us," Yonekuni says.

Shiro notes, clinically, that Yonekuni is getting better at what Reiko-san would call _communication_ \-- even when resorting to cliches. He waits, counting the ticking of the clock. Behind him, Yonekuni shifts and tugs at the duvet, tucking its folds tighter around himself.

"We don't do some things like Monkeys, and this is one of them." Real disquiet softens Yonekuni's words, and Shiro melts just a little before Yonekuni continues, "And you know why we all want it. If you could--"

"I'm not having a baby in my second year of med school. It's not--" Shiro breathes out. "It's not what _I_ want with my life right now."

An ominous silence roils through the space between their bodies.

"Was what's-his-name -- the guy drooling on your shoes -- sniffing around again?" Yonekuni demands, sitting up with all the grace and menace of an angry cobra. "He has something planned, that bastard, trying to impress you with all that idiocy about Europe on a fucking tricycle or something. Has he been talking to you? He has, hasn't he?"

Shiro sighs and pulls the sheets over his head.

* * * * *

He has loved Yonekuni for years, even before he becomes fully aware of his body, how to find delight in the flesh. He loves Yonekuni before their relationship turns real, before Yonekuni stops deluding himself.

It is easy for Shiro to surrender to Yonekuni, allow Yonekuni the pleasure of arranging his limbs this way and that, and to mould his days around the space Yonekuni occupies in his life. What frightens him is the knowledge that he has limits, that he can give Yonekuni anything but this.

Shiro is born a Wolf but raised a Monkey. He now knows enough of how the duality works in him to realise, after struggling to be the perfect Madarame daughter-in-law, that he can and should be comfortable with the parts of him that don't fit. And it hurts him to know that of the Madararui close to him, only Tsuburaya understands.

Karen-san has raised Yonekuni to be different from his mother, but she can't change the world he lives in.

* * * * *

"Why do you want it so much?" Shiro forestalls the torrent of words with a raised hand. "I know about the fertility rate and why everyone else wants it. But, Yonekuni, why do _you_ want a child?"

Yonekuni stretches across the sofa, shamelessly stealing Shiro's lap as his pillow. "You're saying you'll do it?"

"No." He looks down at Yonekuni, brushing blond strands away from Yonekuni's eyes. "I want it to work in a way-- a way where we'll both be happy with it."

Yonekuni mumbles something into Shiro's thigh. Most of it is unintelligible, but Shiro catches enough to make him smile.

"I can wait for a real answer, you know," he says.

**END**

 


End file.
